


Field-side Manners

by Redworlds_dog



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Death, Minor Character Death, field amputation, minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22828885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redworlds_dog/pseuds/Redworlds_dog
Summary: We know that Lucio and Julian met on a battle field where Julian amputated Lucio's arm, but what was really happening? The world may never know.
Kudos: 5





	Field-side Manners

**Author's Note:**

> wow, 2 fics from me in one week. The muses are hitting hard with Arcana.

The stench of rot and death lay heavy in the air, the moans and screams of pain and misery drowning out every other noise. The vultures were already starting to circle despite the long battle having just ended and Ilya Devorak was in the middle of it all. When he left Nevivon, this was not the life he had pictured, not the adventures he had dreamed of as a boy.   
He waded through the carnage, looking for survivors, anyone who was still alive. Every so often he would stop at a particularly alive looking body only to find they had just passed. The slew of bright red beetles wasn’t making it any easier. Any time Ilya thought we saw movement, it would just be those damn beetles. Where were they even coming from? In all his travels, he never saw them until he became a field medic.  
Dr. Devorak was so distracted by his own thoughts, he nearly screamed and fell when a hand jolted out and grabbed onto his ankle.  
“Please, you’re a doctor, help me” they were young, far too young to have been involved in a battle like this. The colors they were wearing marked them as “The enemy.” By all rights, Ilya should have walked away. He should have not looked around then knelt by the shaking, heaving child. But he did.   
“I’m Dr. Devorak, I’m going to help you. What is your name?” One of the first things Nazali had taught him was act like you can save everyone, even if you can’t. One look was all it took to tell Ilya that he couldn’t save the young soldier. Not those wounds. Not after losing that much blood.  
“I’m Kaiden. I'm from Nopal. I never meant to go this far! I never meant to join an army! I-”  
“It’s alright Kaiden. We’ll make sure you make it home. I’m about to give you a little shot that will help with the pain. Just a little prick and you’ll start to feel really sleepy.”  
“Am I dying?”   
The question stalled the doctor, the hesitation saying more than words ever could. He could feel Kaiden’s fingers grip onto his uniform, scared and shaking. Ilya put down the now empty syringe and gathered them in his arms, holding them until the shaking stopped. Time froze, for one, two, infinite heartbeats, Ilya memorizing Kaiden from Nopal. Then a cry shattered the tance.  
“Dr. Devorak!! Dr. Devorak we need you! We found the commander!”   
‘Truly no rest for the wicked.’ the doctor thought to himself as he lowered the body, closing their eyes in a silent prayer.   
“Dr. Devora- oh. I'm sorry. Did you know them?”  
“No. I didn’t. Can you find a way to make sure they get fully identified and sent to Nopal. I’ll help when we’re done here.” He hardly waited for a response before taking off at a brisk pace towards the red medical tent. Anyone who could be moved had been moved there. And judging by the commotion, someone had absolutely been moved there. In between the screaming and colorful language, Ilya could hear other doctors trying to calm the patient down. One of the medics came running out to meet him.   
“It’s commander Lucio. He’s got a number of injuries but the worst one is his arm. Infection has already set in and it has to go, but we can’t, you’re the best as successful amputations.”  
“Be getting a cotterizer ready, and see if there isn’t a magician on staff. Let me wash my hands and I will be right there.”  
He entered the tent to find a number of medics around one makeshift bed, a figure thrashing in the middle.  
“Alright, everyone who is not immediately involved, go find something else to do.” Ilya shouted, shooing away bystanders. “You” he pointed at a stand by medic, “I want you to raise partitions around the commander. No one else needs to see this. Is there a magician?”   
“Yes Sir.”  
“Ask them to put some something for sound blocking, we don’t need to cause more stress to the other patience and this is not going to be pretty.”  
“Yes sir.”  
He walked over to an enchanted sink, lathering and rinsing blood off his hands, watching as the preparations were being done. Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the partition. Whatever his feelings towards magic, that magician knew how to make a pocket of silence.   
“Alright, I’m ready, fill me in.”  
“There are small cuts and bruises all over the patiences body, some we’ve managed to stitch or patch up already, but every time we try to do anything about his arm, he tries to fight us. It’s sliced to ribbons and the humerus is totally shattered on top of already being infected. There’s no saving it, but he’s being stubborn.”   
“Do we have any strong anesthetics?”  
“No sir, we used the last of the strong ones.”  
“Damn. Okay, give him as much as you safely can of what we have left and we’ll just hold him down and pray for the best. Get a tournacite on the shoulder and is that codderizer ready?”  
As soon as he started giving the orders, the medics scrambled, getting all the tools and supplies. Field amputations were always nerve wracking. This one was even more so because it was the commander. If this went wrong, there would be hell to pay.   
“The anesthetics have been administered. Are you ready, Doctor?”  
Ilya rolled up his sleeves, nodding, “Let’s disarm the commander.”

The Commander was finally not screaming or thrashing, but he wasn’t as under as would have been ideal.   
“Alright, we’re going to have to be very quick if we don’t want him to go into shock. I need four people holding down his legs, his good arm, and keeping his torso from moving. We need to see if we can get this done in under a minute. We aren’t cutting at the shoulder, we are cutting just under it and we can clean it up better when we get him to the nearest city for better medical treatment. Have the codderizer ready, there won’t be time for mistakes.”  
“Ready.”   
“Alright, let’s get this over with.” Ilya strode over to the table, trying to exude the confidence he wished he had.  
“Commander Lucio, I am the doctor who will be treating you. We have to amputate your arm or you will die before we can get to a proper hospital. It's going to hurt, but it will be alright.”  
“Fuck you.” Definitely not as sedated as the doctor would prefer.   
“You’ll need to bite down on this if you don’t want to bite through your tongue.”  
“Hmmff”   
‘At least he’s under enough to be more cooperative’ The doctor thought as he picked up the saw, placing it a few inches below the tournacate.   
“Is everyone ready?” He looked up, making eye contact with everyone crouched over the commander. After getting a visual confirmation from everyone, he began the count down.  
“Three, two, one.” 

If anyone asked Ilya what his least favorite part of being a doctor was, he would answer with no hesitations, the sounds. The sounds the human body can make whenever things go wrong are sounds that haunt him in the few dreams he manages to have. The amputation of the commanders arm was one that would follow Ilya for years. It wasn’t the screaming or the crying, it was the wet sound of the saw moving through, the hiss of the cauterizer sealing the stump, the smell of burning meat. Ilya had long gotten accustomed to the spray of blood, the sight of puss and gore. But those sounds never faded. The smells aways shocked him.   
The amputation had gone as well as one could imagine. The commander ended up passing out due to a combination of the drugs and the pain and stayed out. They were taking him out later in the evening as soon as they could get a carriage to the battle field to take him to a nearby city. Ilya chose to stay by the patient while waiting in case anything happened or changed.   
“Are you the doctor that chopped my arm off?” the croaking voice startled Ilya. He wasn’t expecting Lucio to wake up so soon.   
“Yes, I am.”  
“What is your name? I want to know who to kill when I’m better.” It was said with no real menice, though Ilya had no doubt that the man could absolutely destroy him at full strength if he wanted to, but the way it was said was just, so miserable it was a little funny.   
“Ilya Devorak.”  
“What kind of name is Ilya? You look like a Julian. You’re Julian.”  
“You are delusional. Rest up, the carriage that is taking you to a real hospital will be here soon.”  
“Where is it taking me?”   
“A small city called Vesuvia. I hear they have a fairly good hospital. Enough to deal with a proper amputation.”  
“Hmm” and he was under again. This was going to be a long couple of days.


End file.
